


Love and Truth

by giraffecentaurs



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Angel true form, Been a long time, Cuddling, Fluff, Gen, I'm kinda technologically inept, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), M/M, OH MY GOD I FORGOT TO MENTION THAT THERES CUDDLING IN THIS, True Form, hopefully I got these tags to work correctly, which I guess is a supernatural thing? Huh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-28
Updated: 2019-06-28
Packaged: 2020-05-28 08:58:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19390807
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/giraffecentaurs/pseuds/giraffecentaurs
Summary: In which Crowley sees a new side of Aziraphale.





	Love and Truth

**Author's Note:**

> Hey y'all! It's been 20 million years since I've written a fanfic but I was feeling inspired and said fuck it. Just a warning this was written on my phone at night time and has only been lightly proofread so if there are grammar issues feel free to be disappointed but I ask you to at least not be surprised.

He had honestly forgotten what angels really looked like. Not as in their corporeal forms, or even in their spectral forms, but as in… their  _ true  _ forms, he supposed.

But that didn't really seem like the right way to describe it. Not for all angels… well, really just not for Aziraphale, if he was being honest.

With demons, it's different. No matter how much they try to cover their otherworldly attributes, there's always something there to remind people; especially for fellow otherworldly beings that weren't as easy to manipulate as the humans were. Sure, the forms taken by himself or Hastur or whomever else decided to pay a visit from Hell weren't their full, "true" forms either; but it was certainly much harder to forget that people weren't fully human when they had snake eyes and scales. 

For six millennia, he had been causing (or, at the very least, taking credit for) all of the harsh realities that have existed throughout Earth's history— yet, somehow, this horror masquerading as honesty had completely thrown him for a loop.

But let's rewind a little bit, shall we?

Crowley walked into the shop with his typical— 

No, no, I think we need to go farther back then that. Let's start… oh, this might help provide some context, let's start right when the two meet up again after pulling the most epic prank in history (as the teens say) on Heaven and Hell.

After all, perhaps that was why this whole situation had shocked Crowley in the first place— none of the other angels had been in their  _ true  _ true forms while trying to execute him. So, naturally, he hadn't even considered that that was something angels still had. They had _ smartphones _ now, after all. Clearly, they advanced with the times, and the times said 'no eldritch horrors, please.'

This, of course, had all flashed through his mind after he had been once again  _ reminded _ of such a form existing, which didn't happen until a little bit later in the day, or perhaps earlier the next day; regardless of which it is, it's certainly not now. Right now he was thanking… you know what? He wasn't thanking God, or Satan, or whatever, he was thanking Aziraphale, and his own motherfucking self, and Agnes  _ Fucking _ Nutter. He was thanking Agnes F. Nutter from now on! He was thanking Agnes Nutter that they were both alive and he was gonna revel in it, damnit! 

"Might I tempt you to a spot of lunch?" 

"Temptation accomplished!" What a dork.

And so they dined at the Ritz, yada yada yada, you've seen the episode by now, surely. When they got their food, Crowley unhinged his jaw and poured it off the plate and down his hatch. He wasn't quite sure, due to the fact that he devours his food without chewing regardless of quantity, but it seemed like the portion size on the plate was much larger than when they were here last. 

"Truly a snake to your core," Aziraphale said in his typical loving tone.

"Coming from anyone else I'd take that as an insult," he said, stifling a burp. 

"Why? I mean, I understand why being called a snake would be an insult to most but I mean, I would've thought you of all people would have said something like 'oh, why thank you very much! Snakes are very marvelous creatures!'" 

"How on _Earth_ did you manage to trick _anybody_ in Hell if you think I'd ever say a thing like _that_." 

Aziraphale laughed. "To be honest, I didn't think I could pull it off. I've always enjoyed  _ watching  _ people act, but I've never really, truly tried it until now. It was rather fun! Well, as fun as being in that situation could be, anyway."

Crowley smiled. "If you were interested, you should've told me. I've dabbled in a few plays here and there." 

"Ah yes, and while we were at it we could've put up posters on the bulletin boards of Heaven and Hell that said, 'Come and see the angel Aziraphale and the demon Crowley in William Shakespeare's _ Much Ado About Nothing!  _ One night only!'"

"Fair enough," Crowley grumbled.

"I'm sure the turn out would've been rather impressive; oh, maybe Gabriel would bring flowers—"

"Don't think that just because you got to be me for a morning that means you can be an overly sarcastic dickhead, angel."

"...You, said it not me."

They both paused for a bit before breaking out into laughter. The rest of lunch went smoothly, and of course by lunch I do mean the whole day.

They, unfortunately for the sake of a good soundtrack, did not leave at nine precisely. But, luckily, Freddie Mercury was only off by less than a quarter of an hour, so it was still worth blaring in the car (which was thankfully now restored). The almostgedon really must've been getting to Aziraphale; Crowley couldn't think of one single time before then that his friend had actually been calm enough to  _ sing along  _ while  _ he _ was driving. 

He stopped at the shop with the intent to drop him off; he had kinda forgotten to ask where Aziraphale wanted to go, to be truthful, but he assumed that he would want to see for himself that his shop was okay. 

"Alright, here you go."

"Oh, are you going to find a place to park while I unlock the shop?"

"Why would I do that…" 

"Listen, Crowley, I know you have a disregard for road safety, but you can't just leave your car parked in the middle of the road all night, for what I think are pretty obvious reasons!" 

"All night?"

"Yes, remember?"

"I pretty clearly don't, actually."

"Since you let me stay the night at your place yesterday, I'm letting you stay the night at mine today. I told you that I would return the favor!"

"Oh you meant like… return the favor  _ immediately _ … I don't know..."

"It'll be fun!! Especially since this time we won't be fearing for our lives! It'll be just like a 'slumber party,' I do believe it's called."

Crowley yawned as Aziraphale continue to try and convince him— tempt him, even (yes, yes, he said the line)— to stay the night. He was pretty tired… and another night with Aziraphale, this time without worries? Y'know what? Fuck it. Agnes take the wheel.

"Alright, angel, you go unlock the door while I park the car." 

"Oh, how delightful!"

Crowley walked into the shop with his typical swagger (yes, we're finally to this part!). He closed his eyes and took a deep breath in. There must've been some part of him that truly was still an angel, he thought for only a second, because deep down he could intrinsically feel the love that had been infused into the book-covered walls of this home. 

He took his jacket off, hesitated, and then took off his glasses. Aziraphale had kindly kept the suitably lighting dim for his serpentine eyes, so he figured he might as well. He walked into the backroom and plopped down on the couch that he had come to be rather familiar with. As Aziraphale made hot chocolate for the two of them, Crowley yawned once again.

"Feeling tired?"

"It was a big meal." 

"I'm sure it must feel that way when you don't chew."

"Whatever— portion sizes were bigger or... something." 

"Right. Well, dear, it is my personal opinion that you have slept far too many nights on that couch."

"...I thought… you wanted me… to stay the night…" 

"I do! But I think tonight you shall do so in the proper bed."

"You  _ what _ ."

"I said I want you to—"

"I know what you said but, where will you sleep."

"Also… the… bed? Crowley, I don't see what the problem is, we literally did this last ni—" 

"But. But. You don't have a bedroom."

"Yes I do?"

"This entire time?!"

"Yes!"

Crowley looks like he's about to have a midlife crisis. He didn't think Aziraphale had ever slept before. He didn't sleep last night. 

Aziraphale smiled and took one last sip of his cocoa before putting down the mug and speaking. "You're clearly tired. Come along, then, I need to show you where the bedroom is." 

They got up, Crowley somewhat reluctantly, and headed towards his bedroom area. It was suitably quaint, with its own personal bookshelf. At first, Crowley figured that these were probably ancient books that Aziraphale wanted to protect from the nosey public. Instead, however, he was surprised to find that it was mostly contemporary works; and most of it was rather light reading. 

Aziraphale left the room briefly to change into his nightshirt. When he came back into the room, Crowley snapped his fingers and changed his own outfit to pajamas. 

"Not everything has to be done by magic, you know."

"Not unless I wanted it to be."

They got in the bed together and Aziraphale shut off the light. Crowley snuggled up to him and promptly passed out, gently snoring. Aziraphale turned the light back on, as he was already well aware that once he was sleeping there was no waking him up, and began reading, gingerly holding Crowley in his arms and occasionally getting very distracted by how truly peaceful he looks.

  
  


Crowley awoke in the middle of the night to the light, for some strange reason, being on. He definitely recalled Aziraphale turning it off when they went to sleep, but he guessed the angel must've gotten up to… go pee, I guess, at some point in the night and forgot to shut it back off… Okay, probably not go pee, but whatever it is that Aziraphale does. With a snap of his fingers, Crowley turns the light back off. 

Well, he  _ tries _ to, that is. The lamp shuts off, but it seems as though there is another source of light coming from...  _ behind  _ him… where he distinctly remembered there being  _ no  _ lamps. He slowly turned his head, his pupils constricting as he comes to realize what it is he is looking at.

And that's how he got to here, thinking about the philosophies of truth and horror and horrible truths, as he saw behind him a glowing creature that consisted of a hundred eyes that blaringly stared through closed eyelids, an incalculable number of wings and faces, rings that swirled around them, and chomping maws with trillions upon trillions of teeth. There were flames, there were liquids, there were… liquid flames. It was a rainbow in the same color— It was illogical, it was overwhelmingly unfathomable to take in, to even fully describe. It was the worst kind of awesome, the kind of way you'd see awesome used in a Victorian novel. It was a silent image that made a sound; a cacophony in closed captions. It was massive. There was no way to look at it all at once, which is probably a good thing, as there would be too many grotesque parts to focus on any one in particular even if you could. It was inescapable, it was ineffable, and, probably the worst thing of all that it could be, it was the  _ truth _ . 

"Aziraphale?"

Aziraphale bolted awake and in an instant it's all gone and replaced by his familiar, friendly, and most importantly,  _ normal _ face. 

"What's wrong my dear? What happened?" He asks gently, clearly seeing that Crowley has been shaken up. 

"...Does...  _ that _ ... happen every time you go to sleep?" 

"Oh no… did I fall asleep? I'm so sorry, it takes up a lot of energy and focus to contain that mess in such a small form all the time and I just simply can't control it when I'm not conscious. I really thought I had the willpower to—"

"You have to hold back all of  _ that  _ all the time?" 

"Well, yes, of course. I mean, I know all angels manifest in their true form differently but I thought you at least had some idea…"

Crowley shushes him and slowly, softly pulls him into an enormous hug. He speaks quietly as he buries himself into his angel's sweet chest. "Aziraphale..."

Aziraphale is confused for a second, but hugs back anyways. "Yes, dear?" 

"Aziraphale...… we deserve some goddamn rest." 

He laughs. "Well… Amen to that."

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! This was fun, I might do some more (hopefully shorter) one shots in the future. This turned out way longer than I thought it was gonna be lmao.


End file.
